OH MY TODDLER EYES, SUGAR!

I can blow the candle out now, right?

I’m a weird, thrilled, sappy, happy emotional mess.

My heart cannot take this kind of magic.

On top of that, my kid has a ton of great qualities, but cutting teeth is not one of them.  Not only does he do it painfully, but he does it slowly.  It took a grand total of six weeks to cut three molars.  But the incisors?  They are a beast in their own class to the point that my boy is hurting so badly, he cannot eat or sleep.

I hate incisors.

He just sobs with his hand shoved in his mouth, gnawing on his fists while I rock  him in his room.  I hate to see my small boy hurting so badly.  So despite my Kate Spade-toting & suburban mother yuppiness, I ordered an amber teething necklace.

Yuppie like BOOM.  Hipster like POW.

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Truthfully?  I don’t know if it works yet. 

It arrived on Saturday evening & he only wore it for an hour on Sunday – which was the night we were up until midnight, then up at 2am, then up at 5am, then up at 6am.  That was also the night I downed almost half a bottle of champagne by myself, which means I was half-drunk half-asleep rocking him at midnight.  Get your MOTHER OF THE YEAR right here, folks!  

He wore it all day yesterday & we all got a solid night’s sleep.  It’s pointing towards “yes, this at least helps!” with a combination of Motrin/Tylenol, but I’m going to need more than a day or two to bang my gavel on it’s effectiveness.

Especially since I gave him two popsicles yesterday because I figured with half of my DNA, any form of frozen treat would help.

Here’s how it’s supposed to work – when amber is against the skin, it acts as a natural analsgetic, relieving pain & swelling of the gums.  He wears it during the day, NEVER to sleep, & under his clothes so he’s less inclined to mess with it.  We purchased ours off Amazon from Inspired By Finn, which came highly recommended by several buddies.

disclosure 1:  I make no cash off that Amazon link.
disclosure 2:  I’m not a doctor, so don’t take any of this as medical advice.
disclosure 3:  I have an egg salad addiction.

Things my kid says:
Daddy
doggie
bus
key
teeth
juice
light
bye-bye
hi (that’s a phone, not a greeting)
Momma (when prompted)

He signs “more” & “all done.”  & he totally has other words but my brain escapes me & I’m all “uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh.”

Either way, he’s gravy-train.

Today was a big step for us together as it was the first time I’ve taken Harrison to the pediatrician alone.  Nate couldn’t get away from the office, but I was feeling strong & ready.  Y’all?  I kicked the shit out of that appointment, for lack of a better term.  A year ago, I sobbed outside of the room while my baby wailed during shots & my skin crawled with invisible fire.  Today, I sat with a smile on my face, talking to Dr. Hottie about his speech & diet, patiently holding the squirming boy in my arms.  & after his shots, I swooped him up in my momma arms & held him close, drying his tears with my thumb & kissing his little nose.

We’re making it, kiddo.

I’m breathing a sigh of relief.

I haven’t been necessarily worried.  Harrison makes great eye contact, plays games, follows simple instructions, & is very social with his little “friends.”  But still, it’s nice to see the kid learning to use words.  He’s had “doggie” & “Daddy” for awhile now, “bus” came about two weeks ago, & “balloon” came this past week.  Granted, we’re probably the only ones that would understand him, but right now we’re the only ones that matter.

Which is insane to most people because they’re all like, “WHY ARE YOU SO ANXIOUS FOR HIM TO TALK BACK TO YOU?” & I’m all pointing to the sign on my chest that says MASOCHIST.

(The crazy thing is, the kid did talk.  He used to say dada, momma, hey, doggie, & even the elusive cracker that people swore I was lying about.  But then he started walking & pretty much gave talking a two-inch high middle finger.  Apparently that is ridiculously common.)

Anyway.  Back to the present.

So last night, Harrison & I are waiting at my parents house for Nate to meet us there (we carpool, remember?).  I hear Nate pull up, so I take Harrison into the dining room to peer out the windows.  As soon as he sees his daddy come ’round the corner, Harry jumps in my arms & says, “Da!”  Nate catches a glimpse of us in the window, smiles that oh-so-charming grin of his, & hurries down the front path.  Harrison’s all “Da!  Da!” & we wait for the front door to swing open.

& we wait….

& we wait.  Harrison whispers “Da?” & I’m picturing all sorts of terrible things that would make a person completely disappear in twenty steps, including being abducted by ninjas.  I open the front door, fearing the worst, only to find my husband bent completely over on the stoop, groaning & whining.  He stumbles into the foyer & lays down on the living room floor & I’m like, “NINJAS KILLED YOU!” & immediately put the baby toddler down.

Turns out, the man saw Harrison & me in the window & forgetting the still-frozen ice on the steps, went running towards the front door where he promptly slid & busted ass.  Thankfully, the only things injured were his pride & a gash in a finger.

He’s cute, but he’s clumsy.

& I’m hoping that “Da” is here to stay as Harry’s First Word: Take Two.

I know.  It’s not nice to say.  (that doesn’t mean it’s not true)

I have done bang trims in the kitchen so that he could see enough to simply walk, but I refused to touch the rest of his cute little head.  So as much as it nearly broke my heart in two, I picked up the phone & made an appointment at the local children’s salon.  Which is the  yuppiest thing we’ve done since I stuck the Apple logo on the back of my Subaru. (come to think of it, we do a lot of yuppy things around here)

Harrison acted the part of the perfect gentleman the entire time.  He sat in the tractor chair quietly, watching Toy Story while giving the hairdresser the side-eye.  The picture up to the left cracks me up because he looks completely mature & calm & collected like, “Hey y’all, I got this” & I’m hovering like a damn fool, snapping pictures at rapid fire speed & yelping at Nate to catch every whisp that fell from the scissors.

I feel like 18 years just flew past me looking at this picture.

First stop, haircut.  Next stop, graduation stage.

A deep sigh of relief when I realized that not only were those killer curls still intact, but they were even MORE curly without the weight of the hair to straighten them out.

Welcome to toddlerhood, folks.

But y’all.  My baby grew up at the beach.  When we left, he was toddling 10-ish steps.  Carefully finding his way through this new mode of “transportation.”  & now?

I have this incredible gift of a very grating voice on video.  Thank God I never saw a career in radio.

Today you are 10 months old.  This morning, you piped up a little too early for my taste, but in all honesty, I was ready to start the day the moment I saw your face peering over the rails of the crib.  We made a quick run to the grocery store & when you grinned & shouted “NANA!” at the bananas, I knew there has never been a smarter child than you.  Right now, you’re sitting on the floor with Daddy, pretending to make phone calls on your toy phone & the sight of it simply warms me through my soul.  Harrison, I feel like I’m finally understanding the sweetness of motherhood, the inexplicable overflowing of love, & it’s all because of you.  It’s because of these small moments where I watch you crawl over Daddy, blowing raspberries & giggling.  It’s because of your growing vocabulary, shouting out “CRACKER!” at lunch.  & because of the end of the day, when you’re curled up in my arms & we rock slowly, even though your legs now drape over mine & off the chair.

Harrison, you’re growing up too fast & I’m pretty sure that I’m going to blink & you’ll be changing my diapers in a nursing home after I’ve become the crazy cat lady.  Time is simply flying by too quickly & you’re turning into a little, independent boy in front of my eyes.

A week ago when I returned from my trip, you looked at me, grinned, & let go of Daddy’s hands.  YOU LET GO, Harrison.  & took about ten precious, tiny, sure steps in my direction.  In that moment, I don’t know who felt more pride – me or you.  Your face looked like Christmas morning as you toddled towards me, arms outstretched.  Like everything good & whole & perfect in this world.  & I burst into tears from the magic of it all.

Harrison, I hope you always chase after your goals & dreams with the same tenacity that you’ve grasped walking.  Take a deep breath, a quick prayer, & LET GO.  Let go & step forward.  Let go & be sure in your way.  Let go & achieve.

& you’ll never go wrong.

I love you forever.

Love,

Momma

Harrison, 10 months.

I know.  & right now, he’s standing over his Leap Frog table holding onto a stuffed whale while he jams out, looking SO GROWN UP that I can barely stand it.

He’s a machine, no?  We had a lot of issues with him crawling at first because he was crawling OUT of his jammies.  He’d get going & the next thing you know, his knees are out of the legs of his jammies & he’s crawling in the bodice.  Hilarious?  Yes.  Functional?  No.

So we took off the jammies.  & his knees rubbed raw. NOT a good look or feel.  So we put on Baby Legs & HALLELUJAH, problem solved!  Nate was so not a fan of BabyLegs before this.  Remember this picture?

(zomg, how little was he?) But he grew into them, even though they were still more for aesthetics.

but then the crawling began.  & BabyLegs became essentials in our house, especially on weekends when we’re just bumming around.  My favorite part?  Diaper changes.  You don’t even have to pull the BabyLegs off, just unsnap the onesie.  Easy as pie (which is why I LOVED them when Harrison was little & going through 10,000 diapers per day)!

Doesn’t he look mature now, almost 8 months later?

Here’s something fun:  Until July 7, 2010, just enter the code “HeirtoBlair” at Baby Legs checkout & receive 20% off. Seriously.

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